


i'm slippin' under

by Nikiforlove



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Harry Potter AU, M/M, Smuff, a mix of smut and fluff, gryffindor! yuuri, hogwarts boyfriends, i whipped this up for a friend, just a quickie drabble :ppp, just the right amount, slytherin! viktor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 08:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11847447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikiforlove/pseuds/Nikiforlove
Summary: The Gryffindor dormitories are practically Yuuri’s home, his domain, his abode. It’s where he retreats to every single night, where he warms his frostbitten hands across the dancing hearth. Where he chit-chats with Mila and Phichit, where they plot conspiracies and imaginative coups against the Ministry jokingly (it’s a brain exercise!), it-- it’s his home. He knows the place as well as he knows the back of his hands, he knows about the slight dig in one of the wooden planks by the sofa, the fact that the 6th step leading to the boy’s rooms is half an inch taller than the rest of the steps, or about the loose brick in the fireplace where students like to hide small notes for one another-- he knows.So, with all the fibers in his body, he tries not to feel humiliated when he stumbles over the goddamn rug as Viktor licks into his neck, kisses it, then smirks into it, because he’s a little shit like that.





	i'm slippin' under

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if this sucks! it was just a quick bit of writing!

The Gryffindor dormitories are practically Yuuri’s home, his domain, his abode. It’s where he retreats to every single night, where he warms his frostbitten hands across the dancing hearth. Where he chit-chats with Mila and Phichit, where they plot conspiracies and imaginative coups against the Ministry jokingly (it’s a brain exercise!), it-- it’s his  _ home _ . He knows the place as well as he knows the back of his hands, he knows about the slight dig in one of the wooden planks by the sofa, the fact that the 6th step leading to the boy’s rooms is half an inch taller than the rest of the steps, or about the loose brick in the fireplace where students like to hide small notes for one another-- he  _ knows _ .

 

So, with all the fibers in his body, he tries not to feel humiliated when he stumbles over the goddamn rug as Viktor licks into his neck, kisses it, then smirks into it, because he’s a little shit like that. However, the fact that it’s Viktor who leads Yuuri into his room, the fact that it’s  _ him _ who guides Yuuri through the dim lighting of Gryffindor tower and not vice versa-- now, that’s just rubbing salt into the wound. How dare he have more knowledge about the dormitories when it’s only been his what?  _ 8th _ time here? 

 

(Yuuri realizes it might be because his glasses had slipped off long ago, leaving the world in a convoluted blur of colors, or that he’s too busy drowning in the salacious heat of  _ Viktor fucking Nikiforov _ to think coherently, but god knows he’s too stubborn to admit anything like that, so he lets it slip his mind.)

 

Fortunately, when Viktor proceeds to heatedly lap at Yuuri’s jaw, licking hot stripes all the way to his collarbones, all he can feel is bliss. Sweet, sweet,  _ bliss. _

 

When the lock clicks behind them, familiarly chapped lips meet his in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss, pressing him back into the cold wooden door. Then it’s Viktor’s hands carding through his hair, slowly slipping down to his shoulders, then to his sides, finding it’s rightful place slotted against Yuuri’s ass, thumbs dangerously slipping into the confines of his pants, skin searing against his. 

 

It’s an aching mistake when Yuuri opens his eyes and sees the complexity and intricacies of Viktor Nikiforov, who Yuuri knows well enough to see what kind of face he has on, despite crappy eyesight. It’s that look, that look of pure destruction, eyes blown with lust and desire, eyelashes casting exquisite shadows across his features, alabaster skin lined with a sheen of sweat and exertion, chest heaving up and down with thrill and adrenaline, and all Yuuri can think of, is  _ fuck. _

 

So, can you really blame him when he decides to pull at Viktor’s green and silver tie, pressing, pressing, and pressing against his skin, against his lips, looping his free arm around his neck to ravish his platinum-blonde locks, until they crash into the bed? Or when he moans into Viktor’s mouth when the beautiful little shit decides to bite at his lower lip, or when Viktor’s thigh brushes against his crotch, weeding out a needy little whine from 

Yuuri? The answer is no, you can’t.

 

“God,” Viktor whispers headily in between kisses, “You don’t know what you do to me, Yuuri.”

 

He smiles, chest spiking with the painful pangs of love, nuzzling his forehead against the Slytherin’s. “Do you?”

 

\--------

 

Yuuri wakes up naked, warm, and wrapped around the arms of his boyfriend.

 

And when he turns around to meet a peaceful-looking Slytherin, drool escaping the corner of his lips his heart surges, drowning in waves of happiness, because goddamn,  _ he’s so fucking lucky. _

 

Unfortunately, shit hit hits the fan when he hears: “Yuuri! You in there? I crashed at Guang Hong’s room last night, he helped me with my herbology essa--”

 

That’s all Yuuri needs to hear before shaking Viktor awake and shoving him off the bed, heartbeat thumping erratically fast. “What the blood--” Viktor mumbles grumpily, cut off by Yuuri’s hand cupping his mouth. “Phichit’s here! Get in the closet!”

 

“Babe, I’m gay, remem-”

 

“That joke sucked! Now get in!” He whisper-yells, pushing a very sleepy Slytherin into the dark closet, diving back into his bedsheets right as Phichit swung the door open and walked in.

 

“By the way, I picked up your glasses by the entran--” he says, abruptly cutting off his sentence. “Yuuri, why the  _ bloody hell _ are you naked?”

 

_ Oh, shit. _

 

“Um, I don’t have any clothes.”

 

_ What the fuck what the fuck that was the stupidest excuse ever what the fuck what the-- _

 

Phichit looked at Yuuri the same way he looked at Professor Trelawney. That wasn’t a positive reinforcement.

 

“Riiiight. No clothes,” he mutters incredulously, walking to the closet and swinging it open, much to Yuuri’s dismay.

 

“See, look here. You’ve got pants, eugh, that disgusting blue tie, a nice shirt, socks, hi Viktor, a jacket, and a pair of pyjamas? Yuuri, what do you mean, no clothes?”

 

\-----

  
  


Yuuri gets a migraine.

 

Viktor laughs his ass off.

 

Phichit drops the act and snaps some scandalous photos.

 

All is well.

**Author's Note:**

> THE ENDING SUCKS I KNOWWWWWW I DIDNT KNOW HOW TO END IT AND I GOT LAZY IM SORRY
> 
> kudos and comments fuel me!
> 
> i know, i realllllllyyy have to publish that eros and psyche au, IM ON IT :'((
> 
> love u all


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